Me Mum has started doing some voluntary gardening work at a local old people's home, and apparently today they had a singer in. The idea is that she rattles off a few of Vera Lynn's finest, to boost morale like, and everyone has a grand old sing song. Robert is your uncle. Today's singer apparently had a voice more like Vera Duckworth's than Vera Lynn's and emptied the residents lounge faster than a dose of salts. Even the ones who couldn't walk got up and walked out by all accounts. They've got Lenny Henry on next week, it's the only work he can get these days, apart from bouncing up and down on beds that is. That guy's about as funny as a flatulent spaniel. Pooh count a weight reducing and reassuring six.
You couldn't make it up could you. I spent much of the weekend dozing on the sofa watching telly. Glastonbury was on, although sad to say there was no Snoop Dog, Bone Jovi or any other canine related artists. The big news seemed to be the lack of female headliners and now we know why as one scored a spectacular own goal. She missed her slot cos she was doing her hair. It takes ages she said. Why NOT start doing your hair well before your show time. Aaagh no where's my handbag I've left it in the car, I've got to back to fetch it.